


Even After

by sinecure



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Sex, Sexual Situations, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:09:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinecure/pseuds/sinecure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica and Logan have been clashing for years. Nothing ever really changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even After

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don't own Veronica Mars and I make absolutely no money from writing about the show.  
>  **A/N:** I wrote this, my first VM fic, after my latest re-watch of the show--sometime last year--and finally decided it was ready to be posted.

Veronica doesn't like it when he kisses the back of her neck, so Logan does it as often as he can get away with.

Pressing his lips to the soft skin just above her shoulder, he tightens his fingers on her waist, feeling the sticky moisture gathering on her skin. It arouses him more, makes him want to get closer, though he's already pressed to her, skin on skin. He slides his fingers down her back, making her shiver and moan in frustration as he holds her still.

His body is an effective anchor and she stops trying to turn to face him, but only for a second. Just long enough that his lips are able to lightly touch her neck once.

Twice.

As he slides them down a third time, tasting the salty sweat on his tongue, she dips into the bed and turns her body beneath his; only partially before she's up and pressed against him, lips moving over his, taking control. Taking charge.

That's Veronica and it's part of what he loves about her.

Her hand threads in his hair, holding him still for her instead of pulling him down to her. She's aggressive and not, sliding her body closer to his while rising on his lap in time with the pleasure she's receiving. A small sigh escapes her and he breathes the sound in, tasting it in her kiss. He needs those sounds sometimes, otherwise he's not sure he's even here with her in her mind.

He thinks sometimes that she pretends he's not him.

That he's Duncan. Even after all this time, all these years.

But then she pulls back and looks at him and he's sure she sees just him. There's a small smile that teases the corners of her lips that he finds irresistible. Pressing his lips to first one and then the other, he remembers a time when she was Duncan's and he wanted her. Lilly was bright and alive and his world, but Veronica was sweet and cute and somehow hotter than she should be.

The shorts and little shirt she was wearing didn't hurt.

His eyes and body follow her as she lies back on his bed, spread before him like a map to a kind of ecstasy he's never bought from Tijuana and never will. He brushes her hair back, just a little, because he likes it when it's on her forehead and cheeks.

Envies it when he's across the room, unable to put his hands on her.

She stretches beneath him, smile spreading across her lips. "Just gonna sit there and stare all afternoon? 'Cause I was kind of hoping you'd do things to me." Her voice is full of that joking tone she gets when she's uncomfortable with his attention, but he stops her with a kiss that leaves them both breathless.

Punishing her for trying to distract him.

Body melting against his, her fingers slide down his back, holding him tight, and he rests his forehead against hers, feeling her skin, over-heated and sticky. As much as she pretends, in this she can't. She needs, but she won't ask, she just demands with her fingers and lips. He doesn't mind. He kind of likes the way she orders him around with a look.

A touch.

The smell she somehow keeps no matter what she wears or where she showers.

He's addicted to her and she knows it but she doesn't abuse it.

She pulls back, not as much as she wants, but more than enough for him, and then she's back again, kissing him, pulling him down as if she can't get enough of him and he's reassured again. Her hands and fingers push him back, mouth moving down _his_ neck and he sighs in pleasure.

He likes it when she kisses his neck, so she does it as little as she can as if she thinks she's punishing him, but it only makes it that much sweeter when she does taste him. She slides her lips against the sensitive skin, making him shiver.

"I definitely intend to do things to you, Veronica." He grins and presses his lips to hers, just a brief, firm kiss, leaving her following him as he pulls back.

"Oh?" She's innocence and sweetness and that afternoon comes back to him.

He sees her lying on a towel on a beach chair instead of his bed. Hears the ocean crashing on the shore instead of the air conditioning hissing out. Feels the warm sun beating down on his shoulders instead of the cool air of the darkened room as Duncan runs for the volleyball that Logan's spiked toward the ocean. Logan's eyes catch sight of Veronica and he forgets to breathe for a second.

There's a laugh hiding beneath her smile as she talks to Lilly and he can almost taste it, can almost feel it against his own lips.

But then the ball hits him on the back and he tackles Duncan as Lilly cheers him on and he can't see anyone else anymore.

Just Lilly. Always Lilly, until that afternoon.

Now Veronica is his world and he knows she'll break his heart again, but he doesn't care and he's going to enjoy every minute with her until that day comes as it inevitably does. Back and forth they go, hurting and clawing at one another's hearts as they kiss and caress and taste their way to temporary bliss.

"Why do we keep doing this?" he wonders aloud, and she shifts a little, eyes sliding away before returning, bright and filled with lust and something _he_ knows is love even if she doesn't.

She shrugs and darts up, pressing her lips to his neck, trying to distract him again. "Does it matter? I'm here. You're here. And there's this great big bed beneath us that isn't asking questions, but does seem to be beckoning naughty things." She pats it on either side of her and raises a leg, doing her own beckoning with just a look.

A teasing look that makes him harden more.

Adjusting her leg between them, he lifts the other until they're both bent at the knee and pressed to his chest. "I didn't think you were coming this time." Breathing in at the sight of her, bare and sweating, nipples hard and tempting, he cups her cheek and presses his lips softly to her forehead.

"Didn't plan on it." She chuckles and he finds his chest tightening in response. "I told Wallace to lock me in the office if he thought I was giving in." Teeth nibbling his ear, she slides her hand down, stroking him quickly. "I'll let him out when I get back."

Losing control at her touch, he collapses forward, body seeking hers out. "Can we not talk about Wallace right now?"

"Oh," she chuckles, deep throaty laughter leaving her and entering through his pores, "does that bother you? Make it harder for you--"

"Makes it less hard, actually," he mumbles, sliding into her with a deep, silent sigh of satisfaction. Being in Veronica is as close to paradise as he'll ever get. The nameless, faceless women he fucks in between their trysts, the ones he dates and eventually loses interest in, all pale in comparison to this.

To her.

The men she dates, the ones she fucks, do they pale as well?

She always comes back to him, always ends up in a bed or against a wall, legs wrapped around his waist, breath gusting in his ear as it is now.

Voice whispering, urging him on, taunting him.

"Feels plenty hard to me." She's breathless and gasping, fingers gripping his arms and he's sure that this is the last time they'll part ways. He can hold her here forever, rocking inside her, feeling her clenching around him.

He can forever please her and hear her laughter in his ear, feel her breath on his lips and taste her kisses.

But he knows, when they're done, she'll shower and leave him as she always does.

It's only in his fantasies that they stay together, though he's not sure that'd be nearly as fun as the their love life up until this point; coming together and parting with fury. Torn apart and brought together like waves crashing against the shore. Epic, he's called them, and as she frees her legs and wraps them around him, wrestling him around so she's on top, he knows that word is the only one that encompasses them.

They _are_ epic and brutal and crushing and terrible, but when they come together, it surpasses everything that's come before or anything that'll come after with anyone else.

This is what love is supposed to be like.


End file.
